The End is Almost Nigh
by fictorium
Summary: FICLET. Student/teacher AU of Swan Queen. Emma's in trouble, and Miss Mills is the teacher chasing her down.


**Anonymous asked:**

**Swan Queen- Teacher**

* * *

"Emma Swan!"

The other girls move away from Emma's side like the tide going back out, and only Mary Margaret is kind enough to squeeze her arm in sympathy before disappearing.

"Miss Mills," Emma replies, turning around and fixing the Head of Chemistry with what is absolutely her most winning smile. "I was just going to get my homework from my locker so I could drop it off with you."

"My classroom, Swan," Miss Mills replies, shaking her head. "The deadline was nine o'clock, and you missed it."

Resigned to her fate, Emma swings her backpack onto her shoulder and follows the teacher down the corridor. Emma's kicking herself for even taking the shortcut through the science block, but they were already late for Spanish.

"Well?" Miss Mills demands, closing the door behind Emma. Maybe it's paranoia, but Emma could swear she hears the lock click as her teacher pulls down the blind over the little pane of glass in the middle of the door. "What's the excuse this time?"

"My foster parents had a party last night," Emma blurts out, instead of one of her usual lies. "And when I tried to get in the house to get my books, there was... well, there wasn't exactly room for me in my bedroom, put it that way."

"You're a bright girl, Emma," Miss Mills sighs. "And there's really nothing I hate more than a bright girl throwing away her potential just to get boyfriends, just to be popular."

"I told you the truth," Emma snaps. "And if you think I'm trawling for boyfriends, you don't know the first thing about me. _Miss_."

"I assumed the extra-short skirts and tight blouses were trying to get someone's attention," Miss Mills replies.

"They're not," Emma admits, because today her damn mouth won't stay shut. "It's just... they're last year's clothes and I grew over the summer, and... well. Happy now?"

"You should speak to me with more respect," Miss Mills reminds her. "If you did, I might mention that in my store cupboard here I have a few items that might suit you."

"I don't want your charity, lady," Emma says, heading back towards the door. "And if you think you can embarrass me because I got drunk at the prom and blabbed that I think you're pretty, well, I'm not embarrassed."

"Really?" Miss Mills leans against her desk, arms folded over her chest and that damn smirk in place, the same one that distracted Emma so many times she almost made a damn H-bomb in every lab skills class. "Because you were blushing in class all of last week."

"I'm out of here in two weeks," Emma says, getting up in Miss Mills' face and wondering if she's about to blow her entire high school record by slapping a teacher. "I just turned eighteen, so I'm already an adult. You can save your pity for some other poor kid, okay?"

"I only noticed that your skirts are too short," Miss Mills argues, lowering her gaze to Emma's bare legs and drawing them very slowly back up.

"If you noticed, does that mean you were staring?" Emma asks, practically holding her breath for the answer, which comes in the form of a shrug and the raise of a perfectly-sculpted brow. "Because I've been waiting my whole senior year for you to notice me, Miss Mills."

"You can call me Regina, when we're not in class," Regina replies.

"When we're not in class, huh?" Emma repeats. "So that would include if I saw you at the mall?"

"Yes," Regina confirms.

"If I bump into you at a restaurant?" Emma asks.

"Yes," Regina sighs, rolling her eyes. Emma sees her chance and moves in close.

"What about in your bedroom?" She whispers. This is the point where she should get pushed away, where Barney the mall cop who passes for school security gets called, and Emma throws away her whole future in the Principal's office.

Instead, Regina reaches out with one slightly trembling hand and touches Emma's cheek. Their eyes meet, and Emma feels the pull of a certain kiss. This isn't going to be some friendly making out like with Ruby, or the failed experiment with Neal. No, this is some honest-to-God Hollywood movie moment, and her head just about explodes when her lips, barely coated with faded pink gloss, meet the immaculately-lipsticked ones of Regina.

"No," Regina mutters, pulling back after a long, long minute.

"What, no tongues?" Emma asks, blushing like her face is on fire.

"No, I mean... oh damn," Regina groans. "We have to wait two more weeks, Emma."

"I don't think I can," Emma whines.

"You have to," Regina orders, and just like that, the bitch they call the Evil Queen behind her back is in charge again, moving away from Emma like she might be contagious.

"On one condition," Emma says, following Regina until she's backed against the chalkboard. "The last day of school? The moment that bell rings, I'm marching right up to that sweet little Mercedes of yours, and you are taking me home."

"I'll pick you up on Mifflin Street," Regina offers as a compromise. "After your friends have dispersed."

"Fine," Emma says. "It's going to be the longest two weeks of my life, you know that, right?"

"Ah, the impatience of youth," Regina mocks. "Believe me, Miss Swan. I'm very much worth the wait."

Emma practically howls in frustration as Regina leads her by the elbow towards the classroom door. Locked, sure enough, Emma just about notices as she drags herself out into the hall.

"How'd it go?" Ruby and Mary Margaret ask, as soon as the door closes. Emma tries not to squeal in fright at their sudden reappearance.

"Oh, you know," Emma says, like her head isn't spinning and she isn't soaked between her legs.

"Whips and chains, huh?" Ruby teases. Emma feels a very large part of her brain stutter to a stop.

"Well, it is the Evil Queen," Mary Margaret chimes in as they steer Emma towards the cafeteria. "Thank God we're done with this place in two short weeks."

"Yeah," Emma mutters. "Thank God."


End file.
